Latin Lover
by marcasitevah
Summary: Hwoarang saves a young woman from a local gang, and the pair become fast friends. A general romance involving the couple, with brief appearances by other characters. Please read and review. Chapter Seven up 12 June.
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Hwoarang carefully picked his way along the street. He was making his way to meet some of his friends and fellow gang members. It was a warm evening, so he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a tattered white T-shirt. He never worried much about his appearance; he knew that he could have his choice among the many women who stayed around his gang. They never seemed to mind his appearance, rather focusing on his body, and most importantly, his reputation. Knowing how things went most nights, he had left his motorcycle back at his place. There was really no need to bring it out on a nice night only to have to attempt to drive back home drunk.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting an orange and red glow over the streets of the city. Hwoarang ran his fingers through his short, spiky hair and took in his surroundings. He never cared much for anything other than his gang, but the beauty of the city and the sky hit him at that moment. It was strange, he thought, how little things could often distract you from what you had your mind set to do. He stopped and stared at it for a second before he heard a rather desperate cry.

"No. Stop!" A voice called. Hwoarang looked around and saw three street thugs standing over what was obviously a female figure. They had surrounded her against a wall in one of the many crumbling alleyways. He hesitated for a moment, but decided he was in the mood for a little fight. He walked over to the group and grabbed one of their arms, just as the owner was about to strike down. The group turned and looked at him. Hwoarang kicked the boy, and let go of his arm at the moment before the boy hit a near-by wall.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He asked, grinning slightly. He was enjoying mocking the obviously underpowered group. He did three swift kicks to the head of the second boy, and then one harder one to knock him to the ground. Before the last one could leave, Hwoarang jumped at him, sending the boy flying backwards. He hit a wall and fell to the ground. Hwoarang did three quick kicks in the air and turned, looking quite victorious and cocky. He then turned and looked at the female.

"Shh." He muttered. "It's OK now." He cupped her face with his hands. She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. He took a good look at her face. She was not Korean, nor Asian, but he could not identify what country she came from. She had an almost olive complexion, with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. He let go of her face and held out his hand. She took it, and he pulled her up. He noticed that she was dressed rather plainly in jeans and a blue tank top. She had on sneakers, and very little make-up. Her hair was down and kept falling into her face.

"Thanks," she forced out, her face returning to the ground. "I think I have some money here…." She started, scanning the ground for her purse.

"Don't worry about it. I hate to see people pick on poor, defenseless women like yourself." He grinned and arched his eyebrows at her. She looked up at him, startled. "You need to be more careful. Well, see you 'round." Hwoarang turned to leave.

"Wait!" She called, running after him. Hwoarang turned and looked down at her. She was shorter than him, her head coming almost to his shoulders. "Could you, um, walk me home?" She asked, her eyes pleading. He stood there for a minute. If he helped her, he would be late. But he couldn't say no to a face like hers, and she looked so lost and confused.

"Sure," he finally replied. "It wouldn't be right of me to say otherwise." He cocked his mouth and eyes at her. "Where do you live?" She gave him the street name and the pair started walking.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Isabella Rossi. Yours?"

"Hwoarang." He paused and watched her mouth the sounds to herself. "Isebolla? What kind of name is that?" She giggled.

"It's Isabella" she corrected. "Just call me Isa. It's Italian."

"You're from Italy?"

"Yes. I am from Florence, in Tuscany, the north of Italy. Donatello and Michelangelo have art works there. Like the David." She glanced at him and saw he was confused. "It's close to Rome." He shrugged his shoulders and she gave up.

"What the hell are you doing in Korea then?"

"Teaching Italian and English," she answered. Hwoarang noticed that she would look up at him every few seconds, almost like she expected him to leave her at any minute.

"Why Korea though? You could have gone anywhere."

"I took Korean at the university," she replied. Hwoarang looked down at her and stopped. "I had some Korean friends when I was younger, and I used to watch this TV show set in Korea all the time. I just thought it would be fun to learn a different language. That and they didn't offer any other Asian language at my school." Hwoarang started laughing. "I like the other stories better, it is a little more how do you say….romantic? Maybe."

"You are strange. You should be more careful though. Korea isn't as safe as Italy or whatever."

"And how would you know anything about Italy?" She asked stopping and putting her hands on her hips. Hwoarang sighed and waved his hands.

"Forget it. Look, just be careful. There are lots of bad people out here who would like nothing more than to steal from foreigners."

"Sorry." The two walked in silence for a few minutes. "I really appreciate what you did back there," Isabella finally said. "You were pretty cool. I've never seen someone really do that. You always just see it in the movies." Hwoarang laughed.

"I've been studying Tae Kwon Do for years now. It's my life." Silence fell over them again. For some reason he felt uncomfortable just walking in silence. He almost regretted leaving his bike at home, but he figured the walk might do him some good. He could tell his master he went out of his way to do some extra training, or something. "How long have you been here?"

"A few months. I just started teaching a month ago, I think. My Korean is pretty bad. I can barely read it."

"You could have fooled me. Sure, it sounds funny," and here she made a face at him, "but it's not bad. You're trying, which is more than I can say for most people that come here." He sighed. "We have a lot of travelers that expect us to speak their language."

"I know what you mean. In Italy, we always get foreigners who expect us to speak their language. It really bothers me that so many people, especially Americans, don't even try. They seem to be the worst. At least people from other countries know English and will make an effort." Hwoarang laughed at her.

"You're pretty funny, you know? But I agree with you."

"My place is right there," she pointed at a building just across the street from them. She turned to look at him. "Would you like a beer or something?" She bit her lower lip gently when she finished the question.

"Yeah, sure." Hwoarang wasn't really sure why he said yes. He was going to be really late, but he supposed it didn't matter. He was the one in charge, so they could wait for him. He followed Isabella up the stairs to her room on the third floor. She unlocked the door and let him enter before her.

"This is home," she remarked. Hwoarang looked around the tiny place. She had a small kitchen area as you entered, with an even smaller sitting area. He saw a door leading towards the back, where he guessed the bedroom and maybe the bathroom were. He watched as she rummaged in the fridge. She walked over to him and handed him a bottle of beer.

"I thought Italians only drank wine," he joked.

"No, we drink beer, too. Wine is just better." She smiled at him and opened a bottle for herself. She joined him on the couch, sitting so that she could look at him as they spoke.

"What is it like in Italy?" He asked.

"Italy is the most beautiful country in the world," she replied, smiling. "I know, I am biased, but no other place compares. There is so much to see and do there. The countryside is so beautiful, and there is nothing like an Italian sunset. The coast can be sandy or rocky, and the Mediterranean Sea is so beautiful." She stopped and looked at Hwoarang. "It sounds, dumb. I keep saying the same word over and over. I just don't know enough Korean to describe Italy as it should be. The food is the best, and the people are so nice. Italian women are the most beautiful in the world, no?" Hwoarang laughed, but didn't answer.

"It sounds great," he replied instead. "Korea is pretty nice itself though." She nodded in response. Hwoarang looked at the clock hanging on the wall.

"I have somewhere to be. Thanks for the beer." He stood and walked to the door. Isabella followed him. He turned to say bye and she kissed him on the cheek. She then bowed, almost as an after thought.

"Thank you for saving me."

"No problem. See you around." Hwoarang turned and left her apartment. He placed his hand on his cheek and sighed. He didn't really want to get involved at the moment. He had no plans for anything that would be long-term. And she deserved someone who would be willing to commit. He was running late to meet his gang, but it didn't matter that much at the moment. He had other things on his mind. He had no plan to see her again as he did not want to put himself in a situation to hurt or be hurt. Besides, he thought, it would ruin his reputation to suddenly turn into some mushy, romantic guy. He had never been interested in any kind of relationship, and that would not change now. All he wanted was to live in the moment, earn some money, have fun and improve his technique.

**

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**

**Author's Notes:**

Thank you very much for reading the first chapter! The idea for this story first came to me when Namco released the first information about Tekken 5. I started looking for good Hwoarang fics, but couldn't find very many. I decided to write my own, and use a new character. I thought about what would match well with Hwoarang, and finally decided to use someone who needed him, but was independent as well. I didn't want the girl to be American because everyone does that. I have been to Italy, and I fell in love with the country.

The story will be centered on the relationship of Hwoarang and Isabella. Therefore, only certain familiar characters will appear, such as Baek Doo San. Also, it is written from Hwoarang's point of view only,

For those interested, the title comes from an Italian song. It will be featured in a later chapter.

Please review, and do not hesitate to include criticism. I feel that one of the best ways to improve is to learn from your mistakes, and it is easier for others to see those. If you do not feel comfortable signing a negative review, I do allow anonymous comments, so feel free to do so that way.

And now, for the standard disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Tekken or the characters of said games. Those rights belong to Namco.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

After almost ten days, Hwoarang found himself outside of Isa's building. He wasn't sure how it happened; he had been walking along, wasting time before he went to eat dinner. The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of her building. He had been making a conscious effort to avoid going near there, as he was afraid she would see him. It wasn't that he cared about her that much; he just didn't want to get involved. Or, at least he kept telling himself that. He knew that there was something different about this girl, besides the fact that she was not Korean. There was something special about her, something that made him want to learn more as his mind struggled to resist. Maybe it was just her perfume or those pheromone things people always talk about, he thought.

It was hard for Hwoarang to keep resisting her, especially when he saw her as so frail and naïve. She wasn't incredibly beautiful, but she was intriguing, and often cute. He kept trying to convince himself that she was nothing special, nothing to waste his time on, but his mind would not listen. He had tried to release some of his feelings by using other women, but none of them mattered. None of them were like Isa. Sure, they were pretty. And some had quite a sense of humor. But there was something that they were all missing, that she had. Hwoarang was damned if he knew what it was, and that in itself drove him crazy. Whatever was going on, he knew that he was not acting like himself.

So, here he was, standing outside of her building, staring up at the windows. He gathered himself and decided to go talk to her. Hwoarang entered the building, and headed up the stairs to her place. He knocked on the door and put on his best face. He wasn't dressed well, but he had made some attempt to wear semi-clean clothes that day. He was glad he had, although he absent-mindedly wished for his goggles.

"Hello?" She asked, opening the door.

"Hey precious," he replied, stepping forward and into the doorway. She was wearing plaid woven pants and a small T-shirt. He noticed that the kitchen table was covered with papers.

"Hwoarang? What are you doing here?" She looked a bit confused and surprised. "I haven't heard from you in so long, I thought you forgot about me."

"That hurts," he replied, putting his hand over his heart while acting shocked. "I've been busy." He looked down at her. "You hungry?" She nodded.

"Let me go change, first," she hurried off to another room.

"Were you busy?" He asked.

"Just grading some papers for school." Hwoarang heard clothing rustle.

"How is that going?"

"Fine. You know, I have a lot of boys in my classes. It's funny though; more keep wanting to take my class. The girls don't seem to like me much, either." He heard water running.

"If you had been at my school, I might have done the same. Hell, I might have actually stayed in school," she giggled and the water stopped. "I'm being serious, think about it. Most of the teachers are old and ugly, always yelling at you and stuff. I mean, hell, you could win some kind of beauty contest with no questions asked based on what I used to see."

"Well, thank you," she said. He couldn't hear any noises coming from the bathroom anymore. She came through a door and stood before him. She was wearing a short black skirt, a white T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back, and Hwoarang could see she was wearing make-up. She sat down in a chair at the kitchen table and began to put on sandals, lacing them up around her legs.

"Let's go." She said, standing up and smiling at him.

"I know a decent place around here. Hope you like Korean food," he winked at her and followed her out of the apartment. She locked the door, and the pair left the building. He led her down the street, to a small restaurant only two blocks from her apartment. They entered the building, and Hwoarang walked straight to a small table near the back.

"Do you come here often?" She asked.

"Not really. But I know some of the guys who work in the back." He watched as she ran her right pointer finger over the table, idly making circles on the tabletop.

"Can I get your order, please?" A young man asked. Hwoarang looked up at him and glared, shooting daggers with his eyes. There was nothing particular that stood out about him, but Hwoarang immediately decided he didn't like him. The guy just seemed shady, and Hwoarang knew his fair share of shady characters.

"Yeah, I want the special." Both men turned to stare at Isabella.

"I'll have the same." It was more of a question than a direct order. The waiter nodded and left the pair to talk. "What is the special?" She asked, hesitantly. Hwoarang laughed loudly, causing other patrons to look their way.

"I'm sure you'll like it. I'm going to get a beer. Want one?" He watched as she thought for a minute and then nodded her head. "I'll be right back." He ordered two beers from the bar, bringing the bottles back to the table.

"Thanks," she replied, taking a bottle from his hands. She took a sip and then cupped her chin with her left hand.

"You're really quite cute when you do that," he told her. She blushed and laughed.

"You can be quite a flirt when you want." Hwoarang scratched the back of his head, lightly running his fingers through his hair when he finished. He then winked at her and smiled.

"Tell me something about yourself." Hwoarang stared at her, unsure of how to respond to her request. His stomach growled, so he quickly finished off his beer.

"I just got a new bike recently." He saw her look him, seeming to try and figure out what he meant. "A motorcycle. Some jerk destroyed my old one. Your turn." She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

"I once sold an ex-boyfriend's bike to some American military men. He sure was mad about that one, but hell, he deserved it." She took a sip of her beer. "Your turn."

"Hm," Hwoarang began, thinking. He thought of saying something rude and inappropriate, but funny to him at least. He decided against it, and went for something that wouldn't cause her to blush or get mad. "I finished my time in the military not too long ago. I served my mandatory two years and then got the hell out of there. I believe it is now your turn."

"I have this unnatural fear that I am going to fail here, and be sent home with nothing to show for my time or effort. Sounds silly, doesn't it? Anyway, your turn." She drained her beer as well, staring into his eyes. Luckily, for Hwoarang at least, the food arrived, the smell causing his mouth to water.

"Two more of these," he ordered, holding up his empty bottle. The waiter nodded and left, reappearing shortly with two more bottles.

"What is this stuff?" Isabella asked.

"The special," Hwoarang replied, smirking. "Just eat it. It won't kill you." He began to eat, stuffing food into his mouth at an almost alarming pace. He stopped and looked at her, trying to urge her to follow his lead. She shook her head, shrugged, and took a bite. He watched her chew for a few seconds, and then swallow. She smiled and took another bite, to which Hwoarang returned to his pace. They finished their meals, Hwoarang eating a portion of Isabella's. He noticed she ate slowly, but figured it was some cultural thing. The pair finished their beers, and started on another set.

"Now will you tell me what I ate?" She asked.

"The special," he smirked, and winked at her frustration. "You ready to go?" She finished her beer and nodded.

"Where are we going?" Hwoarang shook his head and stood up, his chair almost falling to the floor. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her up. The pair walked outside, the city growing dark as the sun was already down. "Shouldn't we pay or something?"

"Nah, they owe me one," he replied. "Besides, my part of the deal comes later." He smacked her butt and squeezed. She jumped a little, and then smacked his arm.

"Just joking." He said, leading her down the street, away from her apartment. He knew it would be a bit of a walk to the school, but Hwoarang felt the need to show her the building. He was quite proud of it, and thought she might enjoy it. If nothing else, he could show her a few moves and maybe shake the feeling that she was the most helpless creature on the face of the planet. Besides, he might even get a chance to size her up a little more.

Hwoarang continued to lead Isabella to the school where his master taught, the pair not really speaking. He liked that about her – she seemed to be comfortable with the silence, and let him control the pace. He looked down at her, and watched as she looked at the surroundings, attempting to take them all in at once. He put an arm around her.

"You're safe with me babe." He saw her roll her eyes. "Besides, we're almost there." He saw the school in the distance, and breathed a small sigh of relief. He had been living at the school with his master for some time now, and it really felt like home to him. He had other places across the town where he could crash, if needed, as well as an old warehouse that served as the base for his gang. But there was nothing like having your own bed, one that you had slept in for years. Granted, it was often hard to live with his master, and where he practiced, but it helped him improve.

Hwoarang dropped his arm from Isabella's shoulders and jogged to the entrance of the building. It stood alone, separated by the other buildings by a small field, full of grass. He was not too far away, and wanted to check the building before she arrived. He figured it would be best for them to be alone, not because he wanted to do something with her at that time, but because he figured she would be less embarrassed if it was just the two of them. He looked inside, and saw that not only were the lights off, but the door was locked. His master often went into to town, and Hwoarang figured it was one of those nights.

"Where are we?" She asked, walking up.

"This is where I live, and where I practice. We should be alone." He smiled and winked. "I want to teach you a few things, help keep you safe in the future."

"Why do I need to learn this stuff?" She started, following him into the building. "You'll always be there to save me." She smirked, waiting for his response. Hwoarang stared back at her and shook his head. She could be quite the joker when she wanted to be. Hwoarang flipped a few switches on a panel across the building, turning on the lights. He looked at her, half hiding in the dark near the door. He had to admit that she looked almost angelic standing like that, the light casting shadows on random parts and illuminating other features.

"Come out to the middle. And, remove your shoes if you don't mind." Hwoarang paused to remove his boots, kicking them to the side near the light switch. He saw her sit down, unlacing the sandals. She finished faster than he expected and walked towards him.

"I'm going to teach you some of the basics of self-defense." He walked behind her and wrapped his right arm around her throat. "How would you get out of this?"

"Stomp on your feet and elbow you in the stomach." She slowly moved through the motions, showing him that she knew what she was saying. Hwoarang nodded and let go, moving to face her. He was impressed thus far.

"Good. When you do that, make sure to aim up with your elbow. There is something else you can do." She stared at him, confused. "It might be difficult, but it could be helpful. Maybe another time though." She nodded and Hwoarang grabbed her throat from the front.

"I would kick you in the groin." She calmly replied. When she tried, however, she found that she couldn't get the leverage to hit the area well. They continued to work the basics for over an hour. He showed her how to make a proper fist and how to punch. He taught her the basic kicks, and gave examples for their uses. He taught her points she should target on the body. They went over different reactions for specific situations, Hwoarang trying to drill some of the ideas into her.

They were practicing one particular strategy when Hwoarang decided to call it a night. He moved back and dropped his guard. Before he could speak, however, she punched him in the stomach. She quickly put her hands to her mouth, covering her shock. Hwoarang leaned over a little; he hadn't expected her to do that.

"I'm so sorry," she said, putting her hands over her mouth.

"Look, it's OK. Really. Anyway, we should call it a night. Let me walk you home." She nodded and sank to the floor.

"That was tough," she said, not moving from her spot. Hwoarang looked down at her, and then picked her up, holding her in his arms. He could feel her heart, beating faster than he expected. He couldn't tell for sure if it was from their session or something else. He hoped it was something else.

"You did fine," he murmured, walking over to her shoes. He gently sat her down beside them before moving towards his boots. He could tell their session was hard on her, but for him, other than that last punch, he felt fine. They finished putting on their footwear at about the same time. Hwoarang flipped the lights off and lead her outside the building. There was enough light coming in from the street that they could both see well enough to exit. They paused long enough for Hwoarang to lock up the building. He motioned for her to follow him, as he walked to the back of the building. He hopped on his bike and patted the seat.

"There's room for one more." He made the typical come hither look at her, watching as she walked over. She sat behind him and put her arms around his waist. He started the bike and headed off. Hwoarang loved to ride, and he would usually take it out at high speeds. He wasn't quite sure how she would handle that, and he still wasn't used to the new bike, so he decided to go moderately fast. The drive didn't take very long, and before either of them knew it they were at her apartment. Hwoarang stopped and she hopped off the back.

"It's still early," Isabella remarked. "Would you like to come up? I have some cold beer." Hwoarang eyed her and nodded. He had nothing else to do at the moment, and he was always up for free beer. He left the bike out front, along with some others sitting nearby. He followed her up the stairs, watching her movements closely. She was light on her feet, and in rather good shape. He could see the outline of the muscles on her legs. Nothing too defined, but defiantly not weak either. He reached his hand out and then smacked her on the butt, for good measure. He heard her sigh and could almost picture her eyes roll, but he didn't care.

They entered the apartment and Hwoarang walked straight to the couch. He plopped down, and put his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. Isabella walked to the kitchen and rummaged around the cabinets for a moment. He watched her pull down a package of something he didn't recognize, before she turned to the refrigerator to grab some beers. She sat down beside him, offering him one of the cold beverages. He took a sip and nodded, thanking her without words. He watched her look at him and smile.

"I have something to show you," she began. "Stay right here." She got up, placing her beer on the table before them. She walked to the back area, and then came out holding a small book. She opened it to a map and pointed to a city.

"Is that where you are from?" He asked, looking half-heartedly at the map. He saw her nod and smile. The lighting was low, and he was only half-paying attention. From his point of view, it looked like she was pointing to the middle of the country. It briefly crossed his mind that the country was the one that looked like a boot.

"I just can't believe you have never even heard of it. But, then again, that doesn't surprise me. My students are the same way." She continued to sit next to him, both drinking and enjoying the silence. Idly, he ran his fingers through his hair before taking the final sip.

"Sit on the floor," she suddenly commanded. Hwoarang turned to look at her, still holding the bottle to his mouth. "Please, sit on the floor," she repeated. He shook his head and did as she asked, sitting between the couch and table. He felt her move so that his body was between her legs. The feeling was oddly arousing, and he did his best to suppress it. He felt her hands on his back, and she began to massage his shoulders.

She started softly at first, checking to see which areas were the most tense. Hwoarang could feel her hands working into the hard areas, gently lifting some of the pressure. He had to admit that she was good at this kind of thing. Not only was she releasing some of the stress, but also doing so without hurting him. She moved to his head after a few minutes, gently rubbing his scalp and temples. Hwoarang could not remember the last time he felt so relaxed.

"Lay down on the couch," he heard her whisper, her breath warm on his ear. He quietly followed her command, and flattened himself on the small piece of furniture. She sat down on him, using her knees for some leverage. She continued the message, working on his middle and lower back. As she moved down, he could feel his arousal growing. Her hands stopped at the line of his pants, however, never moving low. He had no idea how much time had passed, but she continued to work the muscles in his back. She then moved to his arms, her fingers smooth on his bare skin. After some time, he could feel her pace slowing. He grabbed one of her hands and turned his head to look at her.

"It's OK," he murmured, flipping over. She was now positioned on top, in a suggestive position. He couldn't help but think that under other circumstances she would be right where he wanted her. He started to move, pushing himself up to the sitting position.

"Thank you," he replied. "I hate to leave like this, but you know, it is late." He saw the disappointment on her face, but didn't quite understand why. "I appreciate it."

"Have a safe trip home." It was a bit soft, but he could tell it was also terse. He shrugged his shoulders and left her alone. He knew it was going to be quite a night trying to sleep, and figured a cold shower might do him some good.

**

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Author's Notes: **

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate the comments!

I just finished editing this chapter, and figured I would go ahead and post it. I have spring break next week, so I might be able to finish editing a few more chapters and maybe finish the next two that I am working on. In case you are curious, I am currently working on chapter six, and editing the other chapters.

I hope to keep a steady pace with these chapters, but I can't guarantee it. I am currently working on Master's degree in history, and it can be quite difficult to take time off from school and work to write. So, please forgive me if it takes me a while to add chapters after the next few weeks.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

He was drunk, that was for sure. He also didn't remember there being so many stairs to his room. It didn't matter though, he would soon be in bed. Sure, he probably shouldn't have had those last few beers, but he was pissed. He still couldn't get that damn Italian out of his mind, and to make matters worse, the girls he usually slept with bored him. Their voices seemed to grate on his nerves, their appearances too gaudy for him. They didn't care about him; they just wanted to use him to move up in life, or to look good. Who knows, maybe some of them did care. But it wasn't like he cared for them either. Hwoarang was just feeling tired from dealing with them and their incessant chatter.

His gang was no help either, seeing as how they seemed to rely on him too much, not capable of thinking for themselves. They couldn't even complete simple tasks for him without some kind of screw up; something always had to go wrong. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have realized that he was overreacting to their failures. Each had lost a match at a local fight, leaving Hwoarang to clean up their mess by himself. Not that it bothered him, but he was growing tired of always saving the day.

Hwoarang reached his door and twisted the knob. It wouldn't open, and he never locked his door. He started banging on it, using his head more than his fists. After close to thirty seconds of that, it opened suddenly and he stumped inside.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The voice was female, he could tell that much. He looked up and tried to clear some of the haze from his mind. He heard the door shut behind him.

"What are you doing in my room?" He asked, his head reeling. He had no idea who was in his room or how they got there.

"Your room? This is my place. Are you feeling OK?" It hit him then.

"Isa?"

"Hwoarang, you don't look so good. You need to sit down," he pushed by her and walked to the couch, stumbling as he walked. He knew he was past the point of being drunk and on his way to being sick. He was sure he would regret it in the morning.

* * *

The next morning, Hwoarang awoke to the smell of coffee. He didn't own a coffee maker and neither did Baek, his master. He was aware of the pounding in his head, but it seemed weaker than most hangovers. He turned on his side, his eyes still closed. It was then that he realized something was wrong with his bed. His pillow felt different, and the sheets smelled clean. He could even smell something almost fruity on the pillowcase, something like the remnants of a girl's shampoo. 

He slowly opened his eyes and looked around the strange room. It was not his room, not even close. It was bigger than he remembered, and he didn't have pictures hanging on his walls. He also didn't have a curtain hanging over his window. Hell, his window wasn't even in the same place. However he had no idea where he was.

He continued to lay there, trying to remember what happened. He had gone out with the gang, as usual, but drank more than normal. In fact, he seemed to remember drinking a lot. He wasn't sure he had ever had that much before, and certainly if he did he never ended up alone. He remembered trying to walk home, and that is when it hit him. He didn't make it home; instead he somehow ended up at Isa's apartment.

He looked down at himself, carefully picking up the sheets. He didn't remember getting in her bed, and he sure didn't remember removing his boots or pants. He felt himself panic for a moment, briefly trying to recall anything from after he entered the apartment. Nothing came to mind, but he felt certain that they had not done more than sleep.

Hwoarang sat up and noticed a glass of water and some pain pills sitting next to the bed. He swallowed a few and finished the water. He pulled his clothes on and then headed to the kitchen. He found her there, humming to herself. She was arranging some items on a plate. He noticed her hair was damp, leaving wet spots on her black shirt. She had another skirt on, this one red and knee-length.

"Morning sunshine." She turned to look at him, breaking her song.

"Hey there. You feel OK?" He nodded, and she motioned for him to sit at the dining table. She brought a plate to him, full of cheeses, bread, lunchmeat and fruit. She walked over to the counter and poured him a glass of coffee before sitting at the small table with him.

"What were you humming?" He ripped open the bread and began to stuff it into his mouth.

"Just some song I used to listen to almost obsessively one summer. It's by Cesare Cremonini."

"Never heard of him."

"He's not terribly popular, but he had one song that was quite catchy. It had an interesting video, as well."

"Sing a few lines for me." He took a sip of coffee and looked at her in anticipation.

"You want me to sing?"

"Yeah, why not?" She shook her head at him, and cleared her throat before starting.

"Fidati di me, non sono un latin lover!  
Canto alle donne ma, parlo di me...  
Rido perché tu mi chiami "Latin lover"  
io sono un amante ma, senza una donna con sé...

Vuoi ballare con me?  
Senza dire che poi, ci proverò?  
Con te, vuoi parlare con me  
senza dire che poi, giocherò,  
oh... giocherò...?" She stopped and looked at him.

"What does that mean?"

"It's basically a love song, sung from a guy to a girl." Hwoarang looked at her and laughed.

"Not bad, not bad." He was almost done with his food, ignoring the fruit on the plate.

"It's really a beautiful song." There was a bit of silence hanging between the two.

"Do you always eat breakfast like this?"

"Not always, but most of the time. Sometimes it is just coffee and bread." Another silence fell. Hwoarang was now done eating, the fruit still on his plate. He sat back in the chair and put his arms behind his head. He was tired, and wanted to get to the point. No more skirting around the issue.

"So, uh, how did I end up in your bed?" Hwoarang asked. He wanted to get to the point before she asked something to embarrass him.

"Well, after you started banging on my door at four in the morning, I got you inside. Once you realized that this wasn't your room, you seemed to start to feel sick. Anyway, you wanted to lay down and refused to do so on the couch. I got you to the bed, and you couldn't get your boots off your feet. So, I tried to do that while you watched and laughed at me. You then complained about your jeans, so I had to help you out of those. I don't know what you thought was so funny, but you laughed for almost fifteen minutes before you passed out."

"Did I say anything dumb?" He ventured causing her to laugh.

"Let's see…" she tapped her mouth with her finger. "You told me about twenty times that you were drunk. You said you went out with some friends, and then you told me all about them and some girls. I don't remember all of their names or exactly what you said about them, but you kept calling them idiots, or sluts. Then you started to tell me that I wasn't like them. About that time you decided you wanted to get in my bed. You tried to carry me, but I made you put me down. After you got in the bed, you just laughed and tired to talk but didn't make any sense."

"That's what happens when you drink too much," he muttered. She didn't seem mad at him, just a bit frustrated.

"It's OK. It was a bit funny at first." She smiled, but her eyes looked sad.

"You didn't take advantage of me, did you?" He was half-joking, but enjoyed the reaction he got. She glared at him and then laughed.

"You passed out before the fun could start." She was playing along with him, and he found it enjoyable. Most females would either get mad or get flustered. He had yet to meet one who could stand her own against him in this kind of talk.

"Maybe we should try again?" He raised both eyebrows for emphasis.

"If that means you are going to drink yourself into a stupor and wake all of my neighbors, no thanks." She was smiling now, gently shaking her head.

"You know, I don't even know why I feel so good. I should feel like shit after all I had."

"I made you take some medicine before you went to sleep. It's supposed to help get the alcohol out of your system." He nodded, impressed that she had thought of that. Another silence fell between them. It was more uncomfortable than he wished it to be.

"What have you been up to since I last saw you?"

"The usual, work and grading papers. How about you?"

"Practicing, partying, stuff like that."

"Do you not have a job?" She asked, causing Hwoarang to sigh. She was starting to sound like some kind of parent.

"Not really, no."

"How do you live and eat? Buy things you need?" He paused, for some reason unsure of what to tell her. He decided on the truth, he was proud of his work. He had money, power, and most of all respect. Besides, what did it matter what she thought, no one else seemed to care. Why should she?

"I run a gang. We rig fights with foreigners to get money. It's a joke really, how dumb can these people get." He saw her staring, almost disgusted with him.

"So are you going to rip me off too? Is that part of your plan?"

"I thought you would understand." He was a bit indignant by now. What the hell did she care about that stuff for? Besides, he didn't rip off females, just males. "There's stuff like that in Italy, the mob and shit." She stood up, almost knocking her chair over.

"My family was not part of the mob," he noticed that her voice was on edge and shaky. "Get out." That part was much more firm.

"What?"

"Get out of my apartment now." She then started speaking in another language and Hwoarang guessed it was Italian. He didn't know what she was saying, but it didn't sound like something nice.

"What's your problem? I thought you would understand."

"I understand perfectly well. I want you out of here, now." Hwoarang stood up and angrily eyed her. He walked past her, slamming the door shut as he left. He didn't need this kind of drama so early in the morning, or at all. She was acting like a baby, and he wasn't going to deal with that kind of crap.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So that's the end of chapter three. Hope you enjoyed it. And now you know where the title of this story comes from! If you are interested, the music video is available to download through the Lunapop site (lunapop dot com). It is really an interesting video. The site also includes the lyrics (in Italian only).


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Hwoarang was feeling good about himself today. His master had decided that some of the new students should face him, to both improve themselves and give Hwoarang a chance to spar some. He constantly sought to improve his skills, and had even fought in the famous King of Iron Fist Tournament on three separate occasions. He knew that his master, Baek, understood and recognized his strengths and power. Hwoarang felt more confident because of his master, and always loved to show off in class. Now that he was older he would still show off, but he was more intense about his fighting.

Hwoarang had five students to help. He was going over the basics with each, as they had never done any kind of advanced sparring. They followed strict rules, each fight would only last a few minutes. They could not strike the other's head. Hwoarang had to go somewhat easy on them, especially since they were new. He could tell they were a bit nervous, as they should be going up against a stronger opponent.

The first was a small boy, not older than thirteen. He was skinny, and Hwoarang figured straight off the street. Most of these kids came that way as Baek had a way of taking them in to his care. That is how Hwoarang had started in his study. Hwoarang eyed the boy, both lightly bobbing on the balls of their feet. He easily dodged the boy's punches and kicks, occasionally returning some to check the boy's guard. He did fairly well for a new kid, but kept leaving his left side open. Hwoarang decided to remind him why that was a bad idea. The boy took the blow hard and stumbled back a few steps. That was the end of the match.

The next two were against twins, a little older than the first boy. The first was fast and light on his feet, while the second was much better with punches. Hwoarang worked them hard, and was pleased with their abilities. They had great potential, and he could already see how they would fare in his gang. Some of his gang members game from this school, although many joined with little experience in a martial art.

The fourth opponent was a young girl, probably the sister of one of the other students. Hwoarang never paid much attention to the other students unless commanded by Baek. She wasn't bad, but he figured she wouldn't last much longer. Most girls would start and then quit after a few months. They either felt uncomfortable, or someone forced them to quit. Not like it mattered, really. Hwoarang had no problem fighting any opponent, male or female. He blocked a few punches and kicks, before taking advantage of an opening. Her last kick missed his head, and he took that opportunity to grab her from the back and flip her to the floor. She stared up, surprised, and quickly recovered her footing. She stood up and bowed out.

He had yet to break a sweat and he was fighting the last of the group. He blocked a few punches, and then turned to place a quick kick in the kid's mid-section. The student grunted and stumbled back a few steps. It was over, and they all knew it. It felt good to spar, even if his opponent was weaker. It helped him take his mind off things, including the fight with Isa last week.

"Hwoarang, come here for a second." It was his master. Hwoarang bowed to his opponent and turned to jog towards Baek. He noticed someone standing beside him, trying to hide. When he got closer, he knew why.

"She seemed impressed by your display there. Her name is Isa. I'll leave you two to get to know each other," with that, Baek disappeared towards the class to finish up for the day. Hwoarang groaned. Baek often tried to set him up with seemingly random females. Many would walk by and see him, impressed with his skills. Others came as relatives of students. And some, well, Hwoarang had no idea where Baek found them. He figured Baek just wanted him to settle down with some nice female, but Hwoarang did not intend to do so any time soon.

"Sorry, I just happened to walk by and well, he grabbed me and pulled me in and I tried to get away but he wouldn't let me and I really," she started babbling, her voice shaky and her Korean failing.

"Come with me, we can talk somewhere else." He grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards his room. He lived with his master in a small apartment above the school, complete with two bedrooms with private baths, a living area, and a kitchen. The pair passed the class, causing glances and whistles to come in their direction. Once in his room, Hwoarang shut the door.

"I'm sorry about the other day, I overreacted," she blurted. She looked up at him, her eyes watery and red.

"It's OK. I didn't mean to mislead you or anything. I am a gang leader, nothing can change that."

"And I respect that," she interrupted. "I was just upset, and took things the wrong way. I've been thinking, and well, it doesn't matter what you do. I never asked, and it really isn't my place to be mad about it."

"Seriously, it's not like I lied to you." She looked angry for a moment. "Besides, you just can't resist my body." Hwoarang smiled.

"If you say so." She paused and bit her lower lip. "I just wanted you to know that I wasn't mad, and I still want to be friends. If that is OK?" Hwoarang nodded at her and smiled. He had an idea of something to maybe make it up to her, although he knew he had done nothing wrong. It just seemed like something he should do. Besides, it would mean that he could get out and away from the interventions of Baek.

"Wait here. I need a shower." He motioned for her to sit on the bed. He saw her grimace, looking at the piles of clothing on the floor and bed. He pushed one pile off the bed, and patted it. He was glad that no girl had left something behind, as that would be embarrassing at this point. He disappeared to the back of the room and walked into the small bathroom. He quickly showered, trying his best to not linger. Once done, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He left the bathroom and entered his room, looking for something to wear. He caught Isa staring at him, admiring his body.

"Like what you see?" He asked. She blushed and diverted her eyes. He chuckled and settled for a pair of jeans and a two-color zip-up jacket vest. He disappeared to the bathroom to quickly change into his pants. When he came back out, he saw that she was staring at him again. He zipped his vest and sat down beside Isa to put on his boots.

He looked briefly to see what she was wearing, and smiled. She had on jeans and a blue tank top that showed her cleavage. In fact, from his position, he could see down her shirt, and knew she wasn't wearing a bra. She was also wearing boots, although hers had taller heels. He grabbed his goggles and pushed the damp hair out of his eyes.

"Let's go," he said, holding out his hand. She took it and let him lead her out. They passed groups of boys, all finished with their lessons. They continued to stare at the couple, and Hwoarang made sure to narrow his eyes at them all. They made their way to his bike and he hopped on. She followed him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He started the motor and peeled away, taking a path that lead out of the city. She didn't talk, but occasionally he could hear her laugh as she enjoyed the ride.

It was a beautiful day outside and he intended to enjoy it. The afternoon was drawing to a close by the time he reached the spot he wanted to share with her. The sun cast a golden haze over the land, although it was still bright and hot. The spot wasn't really anything special, but he enjoyed it. He stopped the bike near a tree and helped her off. He leaned against that tree, propping himself up with his arm. She stood beside him and stared out.

The view was nothing spectacular at that time, but it was quite peaceful. The city was close so that the two could see it, but most of the sprawl lay in the distance. A few birds chirped, but for the most part it was quiet. The pair stood there on the high ground, not speaking but enjoying the company. Hwoarang leaned over and gave her left breast a playful squeeze. She turned on him and stared into his eyes, smacking his arm away.

"Couldn't resist."

"Why did you bring me here?" She ventured, seeming to ignore his comment.

"I used to come here a lot to practice, and to think." He paused, lost in thought for a moment. He remembered times when he would come just to be alone, or to train in his mind for upcoming fights. He cocked his head to the side and examined her face. She was once again staring at the landscape. The wind had caught her hair and was blowing the loose strands around her face. He gently brushed them back and then let his hand slowly fall down her cheek.

"Hwoarang," she mumbled, turning to face him. He suddenly bent down and captured her lips with his. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt the need to do so. He deepened the kiss, and pulled her body close to his. He could feel her falter under him, so he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. Her lips were slightly moist and he could taste her lip-gloss. He parted his lips slightly and ran his tongue over her mouth. He heard a whimper as she responded. He could taste her, smooth and sweet almost like fresh fruit. After some time, he broke the kiss and rested his head on hers. He continued to hold her close to his body, and he could feel her heart beating fast.

"We should head back," he started. He felt her nod and turn her head to admire the view one last time. It wasn't close to dark, but it was starting to cool slightly. He let go of her body and walked to the bike. She followed and sat behind him. The ride back was quiet, but there was something different. He could feel that her body was closer to him, and her hands strayed farther below his waist.

Hwoarang wasn't quite sure where to go from here. He didn't know how he really felt about Isa. Sure, he was attracted to her, and he normally wouldn't hesitate to sleep with someone like her. But, something was stopping him. He couldn't tell if he just felt inadequate to her, or if he was afraid that she would become too attached. He didn't want anything special from any one girl; he just wanted things to be the way they always were. The last thing on his mind was a steady relationship and settling down.

A voice always asked him why he even cared what happened to her at this point in his arguments. He never cared before, so why should she be any different. He was getting nowhere with this argument. Being close to her only made things worse, and he feared he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation much longer.

He continued the drive, passing his school as he went. He had every intention to drop her at her apartment and then spend the rest of the night with his gang, as usual. When he pulled up at her place, he watched her get off the bike.

"Thanks," she muttered, shifting her gaze down. "I suppose you are going to run off as normal." He detected the bitterness in her tone.

"I have plans, but I can come up for a few moments, if you like." Hwoarang wanted to smack himself, but he couldn't bear to leave her upset. And he couldn't figure out why. He followed her up to her apartment, and then settled on the couch. She pulled two sodas from the fridge and brought them to him.

"No beer?" He joked.

"Not if you're driving later." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, I ran out. I was going to get some, but got a little lost and ended up near your place." He laughed.

"Anyway," she began, "thanks for today. I really appreciate your friendship." Hwoarang let out a sigh. Why did women always have to be so serious?

"Friendship? I didn't realize you were lonely." She bitterly laughed at his comment.

"You're the first person who has treated me like a person. Most guys try to sleep with me, thinking that I am some easy American. Or they see me as an easy target to steal from. The girls hate me, I suppose because of the way that the guys react when I am around. But you changed that. You treated me like an equal. If you wanted to just use me, then you hid it well."

"Glad I could be of service." He bowed his head a little and smirked. They started at each other for a second. Hwoarang felt much better than he had for quite some time. She seemed to feel the same way he did, or at least act that way. He had no problem with just being her friend. It might make it easier for him to make the transition to a friend with benefits at this point. He looked at the clock hanging on her wall.

"I know you need to be somewhere else. Just don't let ten days go by before you stop by again."

"I am going to participate in some tournament competition next week. You want to come?" She looked up at him and nodded.

"I'd love to." He smirked and slipped a card into her hand. It listed the location, and served as her ticket in to watch him. Hwoarang then left, planning to meet his gang at their usual spot. He was ready to get drunk and waste the night away.

**

* * *

Author's Notes: **

Thank you for reading another chapter! I hope that you enjoyed it. I finished the draft of chapter seven last night. It is my goal to stay at least three chapters ahead of what I post, so hopefully I can keep that up. Again, thank you for your reviews. I appreciate your comments!

As for how I view Hwoarang, I see him as more of a cocky person than a jerk. While he can be mean, there has to be some nice side to him. I think that a lot of what we see in the games is the side of him that likes to fight more than the average, everyday Hwoarang. Just how I feel though, but I thought I should explain that anyway.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

The night of the competition, Hwoarang sat in the locker room of an old warehouse. His gang and several females hung around him, encouraging and talking with him. He enjoyed participating in these events, as it provided some decent money and often gave him a good workout. Hwoarang had not lost a match at one of these in some time, he couldn't quite remember the exact number of times or years. No one at these things kept count either, not that it mattered.

Because of his record, Hwoarang only entered occasionally. It made it more of a surprise, but also kept competition coming in, as they did not have to worry about being beaten every time. He always made sure that no one in his gang fought against each other either, as it would fuel internal arguments. Hwoarang knew what made a good leader, at least in this world, and made sure that his gang followed his rules.

A few minutes before the fight, the locker room cleared, leaving only the fighters. Some looked nervous, on the verge of vomiting. Others sized up the competition, making plans for their fights. Only Hwoarang looked truly at peace, examining his clothing and looks more than anything else. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, along with boots. He had a pair of goggles on his head, keeping the hair out of his face. He had chaps over the jeans, looking ready to ride his bike just after the matches, if desired. They also provided some protection in the tournaments. One of his own rules was to always look good at these fights, as it as important to improve his image as well as his gang's. It didn't hurt his chances with the girls afterwards, either.

His gang was not the most powerful in the city, and defiantly not in the country, but they did have some respect. Most of it came from his abilities and skills as a fighter. No one gang ruled one complete area in the city, but he had some pull around where he lived, as well as near the gang's warehouse. It was more of an influence than direct rule or connections like in the movies. Usually, people kept to their own business and let the gangs do as they pleased. It was too hard to stop them, and sometimes it actually kept the crime level a bit lower.

"The matches will begin in a few minutes. All fighters are to report to the floor in one minute. This is your last chance to back out." Hwoarang turned and saw a lone man standing in the door. He wore a suit, and looked a bit out of place when compared with those left in the locker room. Each tournament had a different sponsor, sometimes a gang, and sometimes other people. Whoever ran the event could set up whatever rules they wanted. Since it was local, they could be quick and cheap.

Hwoarang briefly thought of the King of Iron Fist Tournament before each of these smaller ones. The winnings were meager, even by local standards, but the prestige and chance to hone their skills lead many fighters to continue their participation. Hwoarang was no different from them in that aspect. A group moved to the outside, and Hwoarang followed. He briefly thought of Isabella before the lights hit his face.

There was another man in a suit, possibly the sponsor, standing in the center of a large boxing ring, along with several large men. Hwoarang guessed they were bodyguards. He had never seen a sponsor like this one. He looked rich, and seemed to be well connected, but Hwoarang had no idea who he was. One man stood in the ring, holding a microphone. Hwoarang recognized him as the man from earlier.

"Now that our fighters are here," the voice from earlier began, "we will go over the rules. First, we will go by single elimination. Win and you continue, lose and you go home. We keep fighting until there is one winner. Each round will last two minutes, and there will be a maximum of three rounds per fight. If at the end of three rounds there is no clear winner, then we will decide ourselves. No weapons allowed, you may only use your body to fight. Anything else will disqualify you.

"The winner of tonight's tournament will receive 10,000 US dollars. For those of you who don't know how much that is, it is about 10 million wons." Several members of the crowd whistled. Hwoarang was impressed. "Second place will receive a consolation prize of 2,500 US dollars."

Hwoarang listened as they announced the schedule. Several people had not shown up, or left early, so a few fights had to be moved around. There were 25 people total fighting, which meant that it was an odd number to start with. The organizers ignored this problem, and let the last person fight the first winner. Hwoarang was set to fight in the seventh match, so he walked to the fighter's area to watch the matches.

* * *

Hwoarang had not been impressed with the fights. The first six winners were OK, but none of them worth his time. In fact, Hwoarang was sure he had fought several before, but he never bothered to remember them well. Instead, he watched the crowd closely, scanning for Isabella. He tried not to think about her, but he was curious to see if she would show up. He heard his name, and then made his way to the ring. Several girls cried for him, but he just smiled and waved, cocky as always. He glared at his opponent and waited for the match to start.

He was in no mood to take his time, so he decided to finish the fight quickly. He dodged two punches and then took his chance to rush the opponent. He smashed his left foot into the other man's chest and then followed with a series of quick kicks. The man fell to the floor, dazed and unable to move. He heard the referee declare the match over, and then did a series of victory kicks. It had been all too easy, and Hwoarang only hoped the rest went as well.

* * *

By the time it was Hwoarang's second fight quite some time had passed. The next few fights would hopefully move quicker, especially since the tournament was half over. He stood in the ring, sizing up the next opponent. He had missed their fight, taking some time to grab some beer, and flirt with some of the girls that were there. He had also needed to check up on the betting his gang members were making. They usually made good money from these things, outside of the prize money. 

He was in the ring again, with more cheers from the crowd than earlier. More people started showing up, as was usual at these things. The matches towards the end of the tournament were always much more exciting and drew larger crowds. He decided to put on a bit more of a show in this round, and started off by tossing well placed glances to a group of girls clumped near the ring. They giggled and he heard more people scream his name. He then heard his opponent saying some things, but Hwoarang couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Just shut up already," he said, moving into a fighting stance. The match began, and Hwoarang rushed his opponent. The other man jabbed at Hwoarang, who easily dodged the move. He quickly kicked his foot across his opponent's face and then back again. He turned and followed with the other foot, sending the opponent stumbling backwards. He leapt into the air and did three short kicks, the Hunting Hawk move his master had perfected. His second match was over, another round that lasted under one minute. He walked over to his fallen opponent and sat on his heels.

"Not too fast, are you?" He said, glaring at them. He smirked and left the ring.

* * *

Hwoarang jumped into the ring for a third time. The time between the matches was getting shorter, but if the next few were like the first two he wouldn't break a sweat. His opponent for this match was larger, both in weight and height, and had a scar running down the left side of his face. Hwoarang had seen him fight earlier using mostly street moves. He briefly ran a few counter attacks in his mind and then jumped on the balls of his feet. Hwoarang loosely shook his arms and eased into a fighting stance. 

His opponent charged at him, and Hwoarang easily blocked the first few punches. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone that looked familiar. He danced out of the way of his opponent and got a better look. It was Isabella, and she waved at him. He smiled and managed to block the next few attacks and return a few short punches and kicks of his own. He really had something to fight for this time – he was going to show Isa that he was the best.

Hwoarang watched as his foe once again charged at him. He moved to the side and delivered a powerful kick to their mid-section. The opponent stumbled backwards a few steps and Hwoarang caught another glance at Isa. He watched as someone tapped her shoulder and then tried to grab her hand. She shook it loose from his grip and then punched him directly in the nose. Hwoarang smiled as she proudly beamed up at him. Her smile turned quickly to a horrified expression, and Hwoarang turned his head back around. He was just in time to be hit in the face before he could raise his guard. It was his turn to take a few steps backward before regaining his composure.

He knew that it was time to end this match now. He waited for his opponent to come at him again. When they moved to punch, Hwoarang slipped into a stance for one of his special moves. He put his arm around the opponent's wrist, then turned both of their bodies and kicked him in the back of the head in one quick movement. The opponent fell face-forward, smacking the ground with his nose. Hwoarang heard the distinctive crack of bones breaking. Hwoarang watched as the challenger tried to get up, but decided to stay on the ground. Hwoarang sat on his back.

"Don't you have special moves or anything?" He then got up and let the match end. He had won his third round, but had to be ready to fight again after the next match. There were only three matches remaining, and Hwoarang would bet good money he would fight in the last two.

* * *

The second to last match was about to start. Hwoarang's next opponent was larger than the last, although this one was scar free. He noticed that Isa was still near the ring, although she was behind groups of other people. The room was packed full now, with not much space to move. The crowd seemed to be yelling more for Hwoarang than his opponent. Hwoarang smirked at the crowd and flexed his arms. He heard some girls squeal, and others call his name. Isa just shook her head and rolled her eyes, but he did notice a small smile on her face. 

The match started, and Hwoarang quickly moved to the offensive. Whoever won this match had to fight in the next one. Hwoarang was damned if he was going to be injured or tired, so he decided to finish this fight as quickly as he could. He placed a few kicks on his foe's midsection, but wasn't fast enough to dodge a punch to his face. Hwoarang staggered backwards and shook his head. He slipped into a defensive stance and waited.

It didn't take the other man long to charge at Hwoarang. He used this moment to prepare for a counter attack, and he dodged his foe's attack. Hwoarang quickly turned and kicked the other man twice in the head. Again, he wasn't fast enough and the man grabbed his leg and tossed him to the ground. Hwoarang struggled to stand up, and then blocked the next few attacks. He could feel that his midsection was tender, but at this point there was nothing he could do about that. He had to finish this match and make it to the next one.

Hwoarang waited, and then saw an opening. He grabbed his opponent's wrist, and ran up his body. He used the momentum to flip over his head and kick them in the head. As soon as he landed he kicked them three times, and then did a sweeping kick. He watched as the foe crumpled into a ball on the floor. He wait, and saw the other man stand up. As soon as he did, Hwoarang grabbed his wrist again and flipped them to the ground. He jumped on top of his body and punched him in the face, repeatedly. He quickly hopped up and waited.

When the other man stood up, Hwoarang jumped into the air and completed the Hunting Hawk move. His opponent fell to the ground, and this time did not stand back up. Hwoarang walked over to the corner of the ring and slumped against the ropes. One of his gang members handed him a bottle of water, which Hwoarang drank quickly. The final opponent was now standing in the ring, and it was time to finish this tournament. He noticed that the sponsor was not there, and he vaguely remembered the man disappearing after the start. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure that the man he saw was the sponsor. Someone that rich would probably hide in the crowd, or just have someone else report to him later. Hwoarang knew that people like that had to protect their identity. It was probably just an assistant or a stand-in for the real sponsor. He vaguely wondered what the real sponsor was like.

Hwoarang didn't have much time to ponder about these things though, as the final match began. The noise from the crowd swelled, but Hwoarang was able to block it out for the most part. He was good at concentrating on the match at hand, and the only time in recent memory he lost his focus was when he saw Isa. But now, he was ready. The last opponent was closer to Hwoarang in size and weight. He had watched him fight earlier, but didn't recognize the style. Like most of the people there, it was probably a mismatch of various styles picked up on the street.

The pair stood, sizing each other up, until the match began. They both attacked and connected. The two moved backwards and settled into fighting positions. Hwoarang was tired and ready for the tournament to end. He guessed that the other felt the same, but Hwoarang had to win. He always won, and besides, he had someone to impress that night. He waited for the other man to attack, and then he made his move. He quickly kicked, side-stepping any attacks from the opponent.

Until now, Hwoarang had been holding back a little. He decided he didn't care anymore and went all out for the final match. After some ten kicks, Hwoarang moved back and then launched himself into the air. He did one quick kick before landing on the ground and placing three jabs. The opponent seemed stunned, and Hwoarang took his chance. He grabbed the foe by his arm, placed his foot on the midsection, and flipped him over his head. The opponent hit the floor, hard.

When he stood back up, Hwoarang rushed again, launched into a series of four kicks. He switched stances and continued the assault. By now, his foe was tired and weak, unable to block many of the attacks. Hwoarang placed a hard kick to the man's midsection and followed it with a series of jabs and backhand fists. The opponent started to sag, and Hwoarang moved back to kick him in the head. The other man fell to the ground, the match over. Hwoarang performed a few quick kicks, jumping and landing in a stance. He then turned and smirked to the crowd.

A judge grabbed his hand and declared him the winner. He heard shouting and chanting from the crowd, cheering for him. Hwoarang flexed her arm muscles for the girls and turned to the judge. The man handed him a card. He started talking and Hwoarang had to strain to hear the other man.

"On that card you find an address. Please come by at the listed date and time to collect your winnings. Congratulations." He watched as the judge moved off and then stuffed the card into his pocket. The room was clearing, and Hwoarang made his way to the locker room to clean up a bit. He and his gang needed to go celebrate now. Hwoarang hopped out of the ring and pushed his way through the remaining crowd to the back locker area. There were a few people left there, but no one said anything to anyone else.

Hwoarang found his stuff and walked to the mirror. He wasn't bleeding, and he couldn't see any places that looked broken. There were several places that felt tender, however, and he knew he would probably have some bruises for the next few days. But the prize money more than made up for all of that, and besides, it was his fault. He splashed some water on his face and ran his wet fingers through his hair. Hwoarang quickly dried his face on his towel and then left the locker room.

He saw his gang standing with the usual group of women. He walked over to them and relished the attention they poured on to him. A few of the girls stood, clinging to his body. He smirked and laughed with his gang, and they headed for the door. At that moment, he saw Isa out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't looking in his direction, and he couldn't tell if she had seen him or not. He grabbed one of his men, the only one he could trust in this situation. He pulled the other man to the side, leaving the gang and girls for a minute.

"Jin-ho, I need you to do something for me."

"What is it boss?" Hwoarang stared at the man before starting. He was the second best fighter in the group, but wasn't the best looking by far. He was gruff, and had three scars running down the both sides of his face. Hwoarang knew he could trust him with Isa.

"You see that foreign chick over there? The one in those tight pants with the red tight shirt?" He pointed in the direction of Isa. "Bring her to the bar with you, but don't sit with us. Tell her that I asked you to do so." Jin-ho looked at the girl and then nodded.

"Sure thing."

"Just make sure nothing happens to her, OK?" Hwoarang turned to rejoin the group, not waiting for the reply.

**

* * *

Author's Notes: **

Sorry it took me a little longer than usual to get this one up. I wanted to finish editing it first, and I had some pressing matters at school and work to deal with that got in the way. The next chapter won't be out until after May, as I have the first chapter of my thesis due the end of this month. Again, thank you for your comments. I always appreciate what you have to say.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Hwoarang was sitting in a large booth, two girls on each side. Two of his gang members sat at the table with him, while other members and women sat at booths nearby. He didn't know how long they had been there, probably fifteen minutes, but the table was already littered with bottles. He had yet to see Jin-ho and Isa enter the bar, and was starting to get worried. He glanced at the door, just in time to see them enter.

"Damn, who's that with Jin-ho?" One of the gang members asked.

"I didn't think he could get girls," another added.

"Ah, she's nothing." One of the girls said, trying to get closer to Hwoarang. He smirked, and did his best to ignore Isa. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her follow Jin-ho to a table near the back of the room.

He idly listened to the girls chatter about something that was rather inconsequential and he did not care about. He hadn't really been following them and instead responded with the obligatory nod or yes when he felt it was time. He was quite distracted, trying to watch Isa, pay attention to his gang, as well as listen to the girls. He also still felt a little sore, especially his mid-section. He jumped as little as one of the girls ran her fingers down his face.

"Hwoarang, stay the night with me," she murmured. He looked down at her, and tried to hide his disgust. He figured he had slept with her before, but he couldn't remember for sure. He couldn't even remember her name, which would never have bothered him before.

"He's staying with me tonight," another girl said, grabbing his arm. He listened to them fight, and watched the responses from his fellow gang members. They seemed amused, and he knew that some of them would have their chance with whatever girl he didn't pick.

"I can't make any promises," he said, finally breaking their argument. He smirked at them before continuing. "We'll see later on which one gets to come home with me." That ended the arguments, for now at least.

Hwoarang turned his attention back to Isa and Jin-ho briefly. The table they sat at was small, and he saw a bottle in front of each of them. She was talking at that point, her head titled slightly to the side. He noticed that she crossed her feet under the table, and that she was wearing heeled shoes. From his distance, he couldn't tell if they were boots or not. There was little light shining on that section, and Jin-ho was mostly hidden in the shadows.

Hwoarang grabbed a bottle and drank half of it in one gulp. He was starting to think that it had been a bad idea to invite her here. He just didn't want her to get pissed at him again, and he wasn't sure what would make her madder. If he had ignored her after the match, she certainly would have been mad. But now he was ignoring her, which would probably upset her. He sighed, and listened to the people surrounding him talk.

"Boss, when will you get the money?" Hwoarang looked over at Hyun, the man who asked him. He was the one who had pointed out that Jin-ho entered with Isa. He had short black hair, and was rather popular with the local girls. He liked to think he was second in command, which annoyed Hwoarang and some of the other gang members to no end. He was a decent fighter, but did not make a good leader. He was more interested in women and beer than the gang.

"Sometime later this week. They gave me some card with the information on it. Probably because of the amount." Hwoarang shrugged when he finished talking.

"What are you going to buy me?" One of the girls sitting near Hyun asked.

"He's going to buy me some jewelry, aren't you sweetie?" The one sitting just on his left responded, and grabbed Hwoarang's arm. She ran her fingers up and down his bicep.

"I think it needs to go to fixing some of the bikes we have," another gang member interrupted. Hwoarang half-listened as they argued, again. The gang usually argued about how to spend the money. Hwoarang tended to ignore them, and do what he wanted with it. He really only listened to what a few of them had to say anyway.

He gazed back at Isa and Jin-ho and saw that she was laughing. He was starting to feel a bit jealous, and angry. He trusted Jin-ho, or at least so he thought. He started wondering if Jin-ho was really the one to watch her. He didn't know if the other man had ever been with a woman, and Isa seemed too easy to take advantage of and naïve. He just hoped that his command to take care of her made Jin-ho realized that Isa belonged to him. Almost as if on cue, Isa caught him staring and smiled in his direction. Hwoarang smirked back and then returned to his conversation.

"What do you think we should do with the money?" Kim, another gang member, asked. This one was younger, and in the lower ranks. He wasn't the best looking, and was often teased because of his glasses. He was strong, however, and had moved through the ranks quickly because of his unique fighting style.

"I dunno. I guess we'll just see what needs to be done first. Right now, I think we just need to get piss drunk!" Hwoarang held up a new bottle of beer and waited for the others to do the same. They gave off a little cheer and then drank until the bottles were empty. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two of the newer members moving to get more beer.

"You really let them have it this time boss!" Hyun yelled. Hwoarang could tell that his fellow member was drunk, and that some of the others were not far off. Hwoarang himself could feel the effects of the alcohol.

"Man, Jin-ho is getting it on with that girl!" Hwoarang turned to see what the member was talking about. Jin-ho and Isa had moved to the pool tables and were starting a game. He had an amused look on her face, while Isa looked more embarrassed. Hwoarang pushed people out of the booth and stood up. He ignored their calls and walked over to the pair. By the time he got there, Isa was leaning over the table, preparing to shoot. Hwoarang stood behind her and wrapped his arms around hers. He pressed himself into her back.

"Need some help?" He breathed. She shivered and turned around.

"And here I thought you were going to ignore me all night." Hwoarang smirked.

"Nah, I just had some stuff to take care of."

"Looks like it," she replied, nodding towards the table. "You shouldn't stay long, I would hate for your fan club to get jealous."

"I can handle them. Having a nice time?"

"Sure," she replied coolly, cocking her head to the side. "You?"

"Of course. Victory parties are the best." Silence fell between the pair. Hwoarang noticed that his gang, as well as Jin-ho, had their eyes on him.

"Well, uh, I guess I'll see you later." Hwoarang waved his arm goodbye as he walked back to the table.

"Who was that?" Kim asked.

"Just some girl Jin-ho met."

"You seemed to be pretty friendly with her," one of the girls stated, moving over to give Hwoarang a place to sit.

"Nah, just had to check up and make sure she was OK. I wouldn't want one of my gang members to be with someone that I didn't approve."

"Has he even had sex before?" Hyun asked.

"You'd have to ask him," Hwoarang replied. "Now, where is that next round of beer?"

* * *

It was late and Hwoarang was drunk. He stared at the table and saw that most of the people around him were half-asleep. Some were speaking in slurred tones. He looked around and noticed that both Isa and Jin-ho were missing. He tried to read the clock on the wall but it was too far away and his vision to blurry to make out the numbers. 

"Where's that chick?" He asked.

"What chick?"

"The one with Jin-ho?"

"They left a while ago," one of the girls replied. She put her head on Hwoarang's chest. "Take me home," she murmured. Hwoarang looked down at her and shrugged his shoulders. She wasn't horrible looking, and he didn't feel like going back to his place. He said goodbye to the gang and ignored the disappointed looks of some of the other girls. He followed the one he picked out of the door and down the street to her place.

**

* * *

Author's Notes: **

Sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter up. My school and job distracted me for some time, but now that I am on summer break I will have a bit more time to work on this story. Hopefully I can finish it before classes start back in August as my time will grow short again. Thank you all very much for sticking with me through my writing. I hope that you continue to enjoy the story.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Hwoarang stood in front of a large office building. It had been six days since the tournament, and it was time for him to collect his prize money. The building was near the center of town, in the business district. He walked inside only to be greeted by a young girl behind a central desk. He walked over to her.

"Hey babe."

"Do you have an appointment?" She asked. Hwoarang handed her the card. She looked at it, then at him, and then back at the card.

"Follow the hall to the elevators, take one to the tenth floor and there will be someone there to help you."

"Thanks." He paused for a moment and smirked. "So, what are you doing after work?" He leaned on the counter and winked at her.

"You don't want to be late," she tersely replied and handed him the card. Hwoarang rolled his eyes and left the entrance area. He had no need for women like that. Besides, she was probably no fun. Hell, she wasn't even that cute. He hit one of the buttons near the elevators, and was surprised to find one open soon after. He walked inside and hit the button for the tenth floor.

Once he exited the elevator, Hwoarang had to resist the urge to whistle. The room he was in had plush carpet, a chandelier and was full of expensive Western-style furniture. He saw another young woman behind a desk, typing on a computer. She looked up as he walked towards her.

"You must be the winner from the tournament," she began. "They are waiting for you inside. Follow me." She stood up and motioned for Hwoarang to follow her to a pair of doors near the back of the room. She knocked and then opened them leading Hwoarang into a room that looked even nicer than the one he had just left. He walked inside and she shut the doors behind him.

"Please, sit down," a man said. Hwoarang looked up and saw an older man sitting behind a large mahogany desk. He wore a black suit and had graying hair. His face looked rough, like he had been through a lot in his long life. He had two large men on either side. Both wore sunglasses and dark suits, and one had two scars that crossed on his cheek.

"I'll stand thanks."

"If you insist." Hwoarang stared at the man. "I am sure you are wondering where the prize money is. I have half of it here in a briefcase. However, before I give it to you, I have a proposition. We could use someone like you in our organization. You are one of the best fighters around. If you join us, you could make two to three times what you get from your petty street fights."

"Thanks, but I don't think so."

"You should really think it over. It is a good deal."

"You think I care about the money?" Hwoarang asked. He was getting upset, and that was not his style. He didn't lose his cool like others, and he really did not feel like fighting anyone at the moment. "Look, I just came here for the prize money."

"That is fine. However, I told you I only had half. Think about my offer and come back next week. It would be best for you to work with us."

"I don't even know your name, let alone what you do. I'm more than happy where I am though, so you can forget it."

"Please reconsider," the man urged. "My secretary will let you know when you can collect the rest of the money. Until then, I hope that this will serve you well." Hwoarang watched as one of the bodyguards walked over, holding a metal briefcase. He took it from the larger man and turned to leave. The whole situation was rather creepy and he had no intention of working for someone else. He stopped briefly to set up another appointment, for a week later but at an earlier time, and then left the building.

Hwoarang got on his bike and started driving. He didn't feel like going back to his place, but he also didn't feel like hanging out with the gang. He knew he should drop off the money, but he wasn't in the mood to go out with everyone. It worried him that that man, whose name he didn't even know, was so insistent on recruiting Hwoarang. It didn't seem like he was too happy with Hwoarang's rejection, but Hwoarang wasn't sure he cared. He wasn't about to start working for someone else and leave his gang. He had worked too hard and too long to build it up and he wasn't going to leave them now. He liked being able to do what he wanted, when he wanted.

If he started working for some damn company he would have virtually no control over what he did. He had already been in the military and dealt with that kind of thing, he was damned it he was going to do it again. He didn't need the money at all. Most of his expenses were for parties anyway, and the gang made enough to cover that. What would he do with more money anyway? He had a place to live and a bike. He never went hungry or was cold, so what did he need outside of that? Most of the women he knew were glad just to be around him, they didn't need expensive gifts. Hwoarang liked his lifestyle and had no intention of changing it anytime soon.

Hwoarang stopped his bike. Subconsciously he had driven to Isa's, and he figured it was time for his weekly visit. Besides, he hadn't seen her since that night at the bar, and thought it would be as good a time as any to see what she thought. He parked his bike and walked up the stairs to her place, briefcase still in hand. He knocked on the door and waited thirty seconds for her to answer.

"Yes?" She asked. "Who is it?"

"Hwoarang," he replied, and watched as she opened the door. She then ran back to the kitchen. Hwoarang stared at her, surprised by her reaction. He shut the door behind him and put the briefcase along the inside wall. He then followed her to the kitchen and saw that she was cooking.

"Got enough for two?" He asked, examining her body. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and was barefoot. He thought of making some joke about women belonging in the kitchen, but decided against it. He was rather hungry and didn't want to risk his chance of missing a free meal.

"Of course," she replied. She muttered something under her breath that sounded like "I always make enough for two" but he couldn't be sure. He leaned over her shoulder and stared at the pots on the stove.

"What is it?" He asked. She smiled and turned to him.

"The special."

"Very funny." He was not amused by her response, but he figured it was payback for the night they went out to eat.

"Have a seat, it will be ready in just a minute." Hwoarang sat down at the table and leaned back a little in his chair. She was busy serving the food, putting it in bowls and covering it with some kind of red liquid. She sat a bowl in front of him and went back to grab a beer from her refrigerator. She placed the bottle on the table and sat down to join him.

"Eat up, it's good," she said. "It's just pasta." She started eating, and Hwoarang followed suit. The food wasn't bad and the red stuff tasted a bit like tomatoes.

"What is this stuff called?"

"Pici pasta with tomato sauce." She replied. "You like?"

"It's not bad." He pushed the bowl back, finished with his serving. She finished hers soon after and then got up. Hwoarang saw her place more food on some plates, and then set them on the table. It looked like some kind of meat and some vegetables. He looked at it like it was going to eat him first.

"It's just chicken with peppers," she explained. "It's really good." He watched as she took a bite, and he did the same. Hwoarang couldn't remember the last time a girl had cooked a full dinner for him. In fact he wasn't sure that any had. He knew that some of the girls would make small things for him, trying to impress him or get his attention. But none had gone as far as to serve him an entire meal. He didn't think any of them really knew how to cook anyway.

"You cook a lot?"

"Almost every night. I miss Italian food though, and it is so hard to get some of the things I need over here," she sighed and stared at her plate.

"It's really not bad."

"Thanks." She smiled. "Ready for dessert?"

"There's more?" She smiled and laughed before heading back to the counters. Hwoarang saw her pull out a large cake. Some of it was missing, and she cut two small pieces. She returned and the pair ate in silence.

"What was in that?" He asked as he finished.

"It's a family secret, so I can't tell." She smirked and giggled. "It's good, no?" He nodded.

"What did you think of Jin-ho?"

"Who?" She paused and looked at him, narrowing her eyes. He watched as her expression changed slightly. "Oh, that guy from the other night. He was nice enough, I guess."

"You should go out with him." He saw Isa's face fall and she stared at him. He couldn't place the look, but he had obviously made her a little mad.

"I didn't really get the impression that he liked me. More like he was only there because you ordered him to do so."

"Nah, I think he liked you." She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Not my type."

"What is your type? Italian?" She laughed.

"I don't really like Italian men." Hwoarang was sure his mouth was hanging open. "Too hairy," she explained, and he started laughing.

"Too hairy?"

"Yes! It's so gross. Besides, so many of them just want some easy foreign girl for now. Sure, they will settle down with an Italian, but at our age all they care about is having fun."

"And that's a bad thing?" Hwoarang asked, raising an eyebrow.

"When they won't date you, yeah." She sounded like she couldn't believe Hwoarang hadn't figured that much out.

"Hmm….didn't think of that. So, what is your type then?"

"I don't know. I just want some guy I can talk to."

"That isn't too hairy."

"Yes, that isn't too hairy, and is taller than me."

"Jin-ho doesn't have a lot of hair."

"What is your obsession with him?"

"I dunno. I just thought you liked him." She laughed.

"I barely know him. He hardly spoke at all, except to respond to my questions. Do you know how boring and upsetting that is?" Hwoarang nodded.

"So what's your type?" She asked, standing to clear the table.

"I dunno. I don't really have a type." She was now standing beside him.

"Want to watch TV?" He nodded and followed her to the other room. They sat down on the couch and she turned the set on. She flipped through a few channels and stopped at a boxing match.

"Oh, that's Steve Fox," she happily exclaimed. "He's really good."

"He's not that good," Hwoarang replied dejectedly.

"What, do you know him or something?" She was teasing him.

"Actually, yeah, kinda. He's not that good, really." She turned and stared at him.

"You're joking." She paused and looked at him. He clearly wasn't joking and her eyes grew wide once she realized that. "You KNOW Steve Fox?"

"Like I said, kinda."

"That is so cool. What's he like?" Hwoarang was starting to get annoyed.

"If you like him so much why don't you just go marry him?" He crossed his arms and stared at her. He watched as she lowered her eyes.

"Sorry. I just thought it was cool that you met him or something. He's really famous and all." She turned back to the TV and changed the channel. Hwoarang grabbed her hand.

"Don't worry about it. I kicked his ass once in a fight. He's really not as great as everyone makes him out to be." He saw her smile and she turned her head back towards him.

"I can't believe this. I know someone who beat up Steve Fox. My dad loved him." Hwoarang looked at her, but she turned back to the TV. Hwoarang put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"This is nice," she said. Hwoarang looked down at her.

"Would be nicer if we could get out of these clothes," he replied. She rolled her eyes and didn't move.

"Would it kill you to be serious for five minutes?"

"I'm always serious." He paused. "Jin-ho is a serious person."

"Will you stop brining him up?"

"He's a nice guy." Hwoarang was on the defensive now.

"You know what," she started. She paused for a moment and cocked her head to the side. "Maybe you are right. Maybe I should go for him. At least he's not a cocky, arrogant jerk."

"I will have you know that I am not cocky, I really am that good." He twisted his mouth into a half smirk. Isa shook her head and turned back to face the TV. Hwoarang crossed his arms and set back against the couch. The pair sat for a few minutes, blankly staring the screen. Suddenly, Isa put her hand on his knee before standing up. She left the room and returned a few seconds later with two beers. She handed one to him and then sat back down. The pair continued to sit in silence for some time, Hwoarang staring at the TV. He was bored, upset and uncomfortable.

"Play me that song," he suddenly commanded. Isa turned and looked at him confused.

"What song?"

"The one you sang to me." She stared at him another moment and then stood up. She started looking through her CD cases, piling them up on her left side. Hwoarang watched as she continued to search. She stood up and walked to another room, while Hwoarang turned the TV off using the remote sitting near the empty beer bottles. She returned, CD in hand, and started a CD player. She passed through two songs and then stopped on the third. Hwoarang listened as the song started, watching her mouth the lyrics gently.

Hwoarang walked over to her and quickly kissed her. She stumbled back a few steps and looked up at him. He closed the distance between them and held her for a moment, letting the song finish. He kissed her again, this time lingering for a few seconds. He actually surprised himself with his reaction. He usually wasn't so soft and well, passionate. Hwoarang rarely had to try anything to get a girl instead they flocked to him. Therefore, he had never felt the need to kiss them like people did in the movies. Hwoarang broke the kiss and reverted back to his old self.

"That was to repay you for the food," he said. She raised an eyebrow at him and looked up.

"I'd hate to see what you charge for a date," she joked.

"Wanna find out some time?" He raised an eyebrow and grinned. She hesitated, eyeing him.

"Is this some kind of plot to get me into your bed?"

"I'm hurt that you would think such a thing." He cocked his head to the side.

"Sorry," she looked down at the ground. Hwoarang put a hand on her shoulder.

"I wouldn't charge you anything, not for the first date at least." She shook her head but smiled. She stared for a moment, looking as if there were too many things she wanted to say but couldn't decide on what.

"I meant to tell you that you were pretty cool at those fights last week. Thanks for inviting me."

"It was all too easy." He smirked. "You did pretty well on that guy. I see my teaching paid off." She smiled, her face lighting up a bit.

"Yeah, well, I had a good teacher," she added, shyly.

"Do you have to teach tomorrow?" He asked, noticing that her eyes drifted towards the clock.

"No," she replied, laughing. "Has it really been that long since you were in school?" Hwoarang shrugged. He stared at her for a moment and then realized that tomorrow was Sunday.

"It is pretty late," Hwoarang said, looking at the clock as well. Neither moved, but continued to stare at each other.

"I understand." She looked at him quickly then moved to the kitchen. Hwoarang followed her, and she handed him some a container.

"I put some cake in there, in case you get hungry later." Hwoarang smiled.

"You are too kind." He put his hand on her head and turned to leave. He stopped only briefly to grab the metal briefcase before heading out the door. It crossed his mind that he probably should have stayed, but Hwoarang didn't pay much attention to that thought.

**

* * *

Author's Notes: **

I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. This one is my longest to date, I just couldn't help myself! I have a general outline for how the rest of the story will go, and I expect it to run at least five more chapters. Until next time!


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